Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: Nico di Angelo gets landed in a mortal (boring) high school. Frustration ensues. But even if high school's a major cloud, Nico just might find his silver lining. NicoxOC.

Rated: T for many of the reasons you would expect. I'll try to give a warning before any chapter if anything extreme comes up, but throughout this fic you can expect various degrees of swearing and some typical teenage hormone-induced behavior.

These Mortals Be

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
~Macbeth 5.5.19-28

The warning bell grated against his ears with its high-pitched screech. Nico was never going to get used to that sound.

Of course, he reminded himself, this was his first day in a normal (read: boring, mortal) school in seven years. Ever since Percy had rescued him – and Bianca, he remembered with a pang – from that awful prep school, he had refused to set foot in any form of mainstream educational establishment. Tartarus, he'd even skipped out on his lessons at Camp Half-Blood for months at a time, preferring to shadow travel to Camp Jupiter or, occasionally, Hades.

Although, honestly, visits with dad tended not to end too well.

Nico shook his head to clear it and turned his attention back to trying to find room 317.

He was going to kill Chiron for this assignment. He didn't mean that literally, of course, but Nico allowed himself a moment of satisfaction imagining the look on the centaur's face as an army of skeletal warriors surrounded his bed (stable?). Oh yes, revenge would be sweet.

Okay, so camp was running low on satyrs were away on official business (if searching for nymphs in the national park system counted as official business) and needed someone to keep an eye out at Loman High School for potential demigods. And okay, Nico was one of the few trained demigods who was both the right age for the job (seventeen in November) and didn't have a home outside of camp. But really, they had to pick him? Notwithstanding the fact that, as a son of Hades, he would probably attract every monster in the state, he really just plain didn't want to be here.

There it was, on the left. Room 317, or, as his schedule indicated, Honors English 11 with Mr. Warren-Smith.

Honors? Whose idiot idea was that?

Oh well. Here goes nothing, he thought, pushing open the door and entering the classroom.

The man he assumed to be Mr. Warren-Smith strode forward.

"Nico?" he asked, accepting the yellow slip of paper the demigod in question passed him, indicating his transfer into this class. "Very well, then. Take a seat."

At least he didn't make him introduce himself to the class. Nico gave an inward prayer of thanks to whatever god oversaw new students.

He surveyed his options. There were two empty desks.

The first was next to some blonde girl who was practically falling out of her shirt. Not that he would have minded the view, but the girl's eyes were running up and down his body in a way that made him feel a little self-conscious.

When she went so far as to wink at him, Nico headed straight for the second desk. He didn't play well with overly flirtatious cheerleaders. Too be honest, they kind of creeped him out.

As he set his books down on the desk, the boy to his right, a sandy-haired kid who had an uncanny resemblance to Apollo offered him a quick smile.

"I'm Chris. Chris Wilson."

"Nico di Angelo."

"Welcome to Loman, Nico." Before Chris could say anything else, a heavy guy in the row behind started talking to him about an upcoming football game. Nico took in Chris's letter jacket. Chris seemed friendly enough, but Nico could see the signs of his popularity in the way he carried himself, the way the other students in the room watched him.

Oh well. At least it was better than the cheerleader.

As Mr. Warren-Smith started class, talking about Shakespeare's The Tempest and instructing the students to open their books to act 4, Nico fixed his attention to the front of the room.

A/N: Okay, I've done it. I'm taking on another multi-chapter fic (I have also, in an act of adding more substance to an overdone cliché, jumped on the NicoxOC bandwagon). I expect this one to be much shorter than "Nothing's Fair in Love and War," probably about 5 or 6 chapters, unless I get carried away. I will try to update frequently, but I'm going to be busy over the rest of the semester, so I can't guarantee anything.

Next chapter we will actually meet the OC in question, no worries.

Before I forget: The Shakespeare quotes at the head of each chapter might be a little morbid. This has less to do with the actual content of the story and more to do with the fact that Nico is the son of Hades. This chapter's heading comes from Macbeth, in which Macbeth reacts of the death of his wife.

The Title of this fic, "These Mortals Be," comes from A Midsummer Night's Dream. The full line is: "Shall we their fond pageant see? / Lord, what fools these mortals be!" I love when Shakespeare gets all meta and refers to plays within his plays. And anyway, it's a fitting title for a fic in which Nico is landed among mortals.

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